The Imperial army, which had been frozen in shock from witnessing the explosion, began to move again.

Not with enthusiasm, not with confidence, but with the grim determination of soldiers who understood that disobedience meant death from their own command structure.

Thousands of them, advancing in waves, weapons raised, ready to die if it meant burying Jorghan under sheer weight of numbers.

Constance kept dragging Caden toward the crater's edge, toward where a medical transport had been held in reserve, her only focus getting her brother to safety, keeping him alive long enough for Imperial medicine to save him.

Jorghan watched her struggle, watched the army advance, and felt something cold settle over his features.

He'd tried mercy.

Tried to let them leave.

Tried to avoid unnecessary slaughter.

They wouldn't let him.

So be it.

His eyes blazed crimson once more, and this time there was no humanity left in them—just the cold calculation of a Berserk Lord recognizing that some enemies couldn't be reasoned with, only destroyed.

The army came.

And the real massacre was about to begin.

-

Settlement Observation Point

"He's going to fight them all," Sarhita whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Thousands of soldiers. He's actually going to fight them all."

Thel'endra's mercury eyes tracked Jorghan's form at the crater's edge. "No shit. Just look at his stance. Look at his eyes."

"What do you see?" Vel'sara asked.

"Finality," the Ma'ulankr commander replied.

"He's not fighting anymore. He's executing."

-

Jorghan stood motionless as the Imperial army advanced in coordinated waves. His crimson eyes tracked their movement with predatory focus—battalions spreading across the desert in textbook formation, artillery pieces adjusting their aim, and the remaining mobile armor units positioning for support fire.

Even after seeing their commanders leave, the army was moving against him.

Jorghan smiled, seeing the tenacity of the soldiers.

They thought numbers would save them.

Thought that even a Berserk Lord had limits, that enough bodies thrown at the problem would eventually overwhelm him.

They were about to learn how wrong they were.

[Bloodborne Rage — Primal Rage]

[Essence Reserves: 23% - CRITICAL]

[Warning: Recommend defensive posture and regeneration]

[Alternative Detected: Environmental Essence Available]

[Haelve Corpses: 40 units - Unabsorbed residual essence]

[Imperial Army: 38,470 soldiers - Living essence signatures]

[Recommendation: FULL HARVEST PROTOCOL]

Jorghan's lips pulled back in something that wasn't quite a smile.

The system was referring to those humans as harvest, like they were stock, not living beings.

Whatever.

He warned them again and again and told them to run away. But they still came, and it's their death.

He looked towards the hounds, which were standing behind him; he retrieved them back to him, gaining half of his reserves.

[Blood absorption active]

[Mana devouring attribute active]

He kept them in check, as he was going to use their energy to kill them.

He raised both hands toward the sky, and his voice rang out across the battlefield—not amplified by magic, but by pure force of will, the bloodline allowing him to project his intent as sound.

"BLOOD EMPEROR'S DOMINION: CRIMSON HARVEST!"

The ability activated, and reality screamed.

Every drop of blood from every soldier and haelves responded simultaneously.

Not just surface blood, but essence still trapped in destroyed tissue, cellular fluid, the very life force that had animated those engineered warriors. It erupted from corpses scattered across square miles of desert, rising in crimson pillars that stretched toward the sky like the fingers of a drowning god reaching for salvation.

The blood converged on Jorghan's position, but it didn't absorb into his body this time.

Instead, it orbited around him in spiraling rings, rotating faster and faster, creating a miniature galaxy of crimson essence that defied gravity in equal measure.

[Blood Essence Absorbed: 40 Haelve Units]

[Essence Reserves: 23% → 89%]

[New Ability Unlocked: SUPREME-CLASS MANIFESTATION]

[Warning: Following techniques will consume massive amounts of essence]

The advancing army faltered, soldiers staring in horror at the spectacle. Even their training couldn't fully suppress the primal fear response triggered by watching someone casually violate the laws of nature.

"First wave artillery, FIRE!" an Imperial commander screamed, desperate to disrupt whatever Jorghan was preparing.

Twenty artillery pieces discharged simultaneously, shells arcing through the air toward the crimson figure wreathed in orbiting blood.

Jorghan's right hand moved in a casual gesture, as if swatting away an insect.

"Crimson Barrier: Absolute Dominion."

The blood orbiting him expanded outward, forming a hemisphere of pure crimson essence fifty feet in radius. The artillery shells struck the barrier and simply stopped—not exploding, not deflecting, but halting mid-flight as if they'd hit an invisible wall.

Then the shells began to dissolve, metal and explosives breaking down into component atoms, those atoms being absorbed into the blood essence, becoming fuel for Jorghan's power.

[Matter Conversion: Active]

[Essence Reserves: 89% → 91%]

"Impossible," the commander whispered.

"He's eating our ammunition. He's converting it to energy."

Jorghan's left hand thrust forward, and his voice carried the weight of absolute command.

"Blood Knight Technique: Thousand Crimson Lances!"

The orbiting blood reshaped itself, fragmenting into a thousand individual spears—each one three feet long, each one dense enough to punch through steel, each one guided by Jorghan's will with precision that exceeded any targeting computer.

They launched.

The crimson lances streaked across the desert like a meteor shower, trails of red light marking their paths. The first wave of Imperial soldiers—three hundred men in tight formation—raised their shields and activated their defensive barriers.

The lances went through their defenses like they weren't there.

Each spear found a target—throat, heart, brain—killing with surgical precision. Three thousand soldiers fell in three seconds, bodies crumpling to the sand with crimson spears embedded in vital organs.

But the lances didn't stop there.

Following Jorghan's mental commands, they withdrew from the corpses, extracting not just the physical blood but the essence—the life force that had animated those soldiers. The spears absorbed the essence and grew larger and more powerful, feeding on death to become deadlier.

[Soldiers Eliminated: 3000]

[Blood Essence Absorbed: 3000 Human Units]

[Essence Reserves: 91% → 97%]

The second wave tried to scatter, abandoning formation in favor of survival. It didn't help.

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